


a thousand years and a thousand more

by EllaYuki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (post everything but the last scene), Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romantic Fluff, post-GPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 18:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12018423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllaYuki/pseuds/EllaYuki
Summary: yuuri doesn’t get to see victor’s new programs until the evening before they're set to move to russia, and they’re nothing like he expected.





	a thousand years and a thousand more

he only sees bits and pieces of victor’s new programs while they’re separated post-grand prix final, short clips sent by yuri, by mila, by victor himself, but never a full run-through of either of them. it makes yuuri curious, and maybe a tiny bit frustrated, too.

he’s not jealous, not really, of yurio and the others seeing victor crafting pieces of art again while he can do nothing but refine his own, try not to lose his edge and his mind.

he tells himself it’s probably harder for victor, having to rush, not even having the comfort of his beloved dog in the hours in between training sessions, and it makes something in his chest twist and release and twist again.

he’s not able to watch the russian national live, because of his own competition and because he can’t seem to find a working stream to save his life, so he busies himself however he can, tries to keep himself in the headspace needed to win, and to not become a jittery mess after he does.

when victor lands in fukuoka a day after winning his first silver medal in over half a decade, yuuri is there to pick him up, makkachin in toe, all the while trying not to wonder if this, this wriggling, restless thing cursing through his veins, is what victor felt when he’d waited for yuuri after rostelecom.

they relax for a few days, celebrating victor’s birthday and their nationals’ medals and enjoying a bit of the general winter festivities and cheer. victor and makkachin are more or less glued together, much to yuuri’s fond amusement. neither of them skates too much during those few days, preferring to relax for as long as they can before intensive training is set to start upon their moving to st. petersburg.

victor is not being secretive per se, about his programs, but yuuri is kind of buzzing under his skin with the need to see them. he doesn’t want to search for them online, they never really to victor’s beautiful skating any justice.

it’s not until the night before their flight out that yuuri finally gets his burning wish.

victor’s been restless the entire day, packing and repacking the luggage he hasn’t already sent ahead along with yuuri’s, helping around the onsen and talking as much as he can with yuuri’s family, fluttering here and there like he can’t sit still. yuuri wonders if it’s because, starting tomorrow, it’s just going to be the two of them (and makkachin) and it’s making victor nervous some way or another.

at around seven in the evening, just as the sky is starting to turn shades, victor takes yuuri’s hand and asks if they can go to ice castle. the look on his face, not quite nervous, but not quite the normal confidence, has yuuri melting a tiny bit, and rushing to get his skates.

the sun is already halfway set when they’re stepping onto the fresh ice, skating a few laps to warm up and unwind. yuuri is surprised that he’s managed to go so many days without stepping foot in the rink, he’s surprised either of them managed it, really.

he’s finishing another lap when he spots victor by the sound system at the edge of the rink, scrolling through his phone like he’s searching for something specific.

he slides to a stop next to him, curious, but doesn’t ask anything. victor will tell him what he has planned on his own.

when victor finally looks up at him, there’s a touch of pink over the bridge of his nose and at the tips of his ears.

‘yuuri,’ he starts, ‘you said you haven’t seen my programs yet, right?’

yuuri tilts his head to the side, his heart picking up its pace in his chest. ‘yeah, that’s right. i couldn’t watch your nationals live and, well…’ he takes a breath, a bit embarrassed, ‘videos of national competitions are hard to come by and not the best quality.’

victor nods, and takes a deep breath. ‘want to see them now?’

there’s a drumbeat in yuuri’s ears, in his veins. ‘yes,’ he says without missing so much as a beat. ‘yes. please.’

victor nods again, and turns back to where his phone is plugged in to the sound system. yuuri steps out off the ice, takes a drink of water, and settles in to watch. he’s never been quite so excited to see victor’s new creations in all the years he’s been a fan of the man.

‘i’ll start with the short,’ victor says, tapping on his phone one last time before setting it down and taking center ice.

the song that starts is soft, a bit lonely at first, and yuuri is hit with a wave of emotion that almost chokes him.

victor starts moving slowly, like he’s being weighed down, like he’s having to drag himself through the motions, every move delicate, deliberate, bittersweet. yuuri wonders if this represents a loneliness in victor that yuuri has never seen, never known. it wouldn’t surprise him.

halfway through, though, something happens, bells tinkling like a magic spell being cast or something out of a fairy tale appearing, and victor’s movements change, from lonely, to curious, to excited, life coming into his step. yuuri forgets to breathe.

when the melody ends, on a high note, speaking of something new and adventurous and hopeful, victor ends it with his arms wrapped around himself, one hand low on his hip, the other gentle on his cheek, eyes closed, a tender smile on his lips.

yuuri’s applauding before he’s even aware of it, almost entranced.

victor skates to the edge, takes a deep drink from his water bottle, tries to catch his breath. he looks at yuuri with something like nervousness in his eyes.

‘how was it?’ he asks, and he sounds almost shy. yuuri wants to kiss him.

‘amazing,’ is what he says instead. ‘i couldn’t take my eyes away.’

the red on victor’s face intensifies, and he takes another drink, looking pleased.

after a few more moments, he turns back to his phone and scrolls again.

‘shouldn’t your rest a bit?’ yuuri asks. ‘you shouldn’t strain your body.’

victor smiles at him, the one that says that he thinks yuuri’s being cute. the sun has set outside, the only light the one from the moonlight and from the couple of street lamps by the building. victor looks almost ethereal. yuuri wants very much to kiss him, to drown in him.

victor takes center ice once more after a few moments, one hand on his hip, the other extended towards yuuri, palm open like an invitation. yuuri’s breath catches on a sense of déjà vu.

victor moves with something like longing and frustration, like he wants something, desperately, and it’s there within his grasp, but he can’t have it. yuuri recognizes the story unfolding, mostly because he’s lived it, but it’s weird, and humbling and awe-inducing, to see it from victor’s perspective.

at the half way mark, victor lands a perfect quad flip, and the story takes on a different note, hopeful, joyful, still a touch frustrating at times, but with the kind of giddiness to it that speaks of a future that’s about to unfold that has long been dreamed of.

tears streams down yuuri’s cheeks, crystalline and happy. he wonders if this is what victor felt like then yuuri skated his free at the grand prix final, this overwhelming sense of love and happiness.

when victor finishes, it’s down on one knee, one hand cradled in the other and brought close to his mouth, lips almost touching his ring. his eyes are closed, and he looks peaceful and happy, for all that his chest is heaving from the effort of skating two consecutive programs.

after a beat, he stands back up, shoulders squared, and looks at yuuri, a question in his eyes.

yuuri’s out on the ice before he’s even aware that he’s started moving, desperate to reach victor as quickly as possible, desperate to touch him, to…

victor lets out a startled huff when yuuri barrels into him, but yuuri swallows it, mouth finding victor’s, arms wrapping tight around him. they don’t fall to the ice, but it’s a close thing.

when they finally pull apart (a hair’s breadth only, because yuuri can’t bear being separated from him more than that), victor chuckles.

‘i take it you like it,’ he stays, voice husky and yuuri kisses him again.

‘i loved it. i love you.’ the words are whispered and slow, like a secret, and feel like honey on his tongue. ‘thank you, victor.’

victor hugs him closer, kisses him again, and it’s like the world just… disappears around them. the ice under their feet could melt, the sky outside could catch fire, and yuuri wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t care.

‘let’s get married,’ he says, and he’s never been surer about anything in his life. ‘after the season ends, let’s get married.’

victor’s breath hitches, and then he melts into yuuri. his voice, when he says ‘yes, yuuri, yes,’ is nothing like yuuri’s ever heard from him before.

when they kiss again, something like peace and something like giddiness settle in his chest, and yuuri is incredibly, unimaginably happy.


End file.
